


Speak of the Devil

by HeadmasterFelix



Series: All's Fair [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Awkward Conversations, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Bottoming from the Top, Enthusiastic Consent, Even though there's no actual BDSM, First Time Bottoming, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Moose, Moosley, Multi, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Porn With Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Some Plot, Switching, This concludes with an eight page sex scene, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, realistic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 20,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Act I: Sam has a little alone time and puts it to good use. Crowley overhears and confronts him in the best way possible.<br/>Act II: Sam encounters Castiel, and has another meeting with Crowley in which he divulges some pertinent information .<br/>Act III: Trinity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prayers

**Author's Note:**

> I do not write long fics, or stick with ones that are meant to be long - my list of works will attest to that. When I set out to write this fic, it was going to just be chapters 1 and 4. I found I had a bit more to say, so chapters 2 and 3 got put in there. Everything after that, though, all credit goes to the boys for being so inspirational and to everyone who has commented for being so encouraging and amazingly nice.

Sam disrobed in a hurry, nearly tearing his shirt as he flung it off of himself and kicking his pants off with such recklessness that he stepped on his phone and keys as he moved into the motel bed. Full nudity is something he very rarely experienced outside of the shower, and with Dean guaranteed to be gone for several hours, he had to take advantage. Soon, he slid his hand under the blankets and down his abdomen, gently palming himself while trying to conjure up something to focus on. He wasn't particularly aroused yet, but he was alone and had learned long ago to never let alone time go to waste.

His hand moved but nothing was happening. His mind struggled for ideas, images, remembered sounds, anything that could nudge him forward. He came up with plenty, but still nothing. With a frustrated sigh, Sam ran both of his hands over his forehead and through his hair before shifting in bed, trying to make himself more comfortable.

After a pause and a readjusted pillow, Sam tried again. "Don't think, Sammy. Just... don't think," he tried his best to follow his own advice, attempting to relieve the mental pressure of forcing this. He let his hand do all the work, allowing his focus to fall on the present sensations rather than conjured images.

Soon, he was getting somewhere. He grew hard and his whole body began to react - his pulse deepened, his pupils dilated, his muscles tensed. With lust building, his ideas finally began cooperating.

He envisioned another man, hand wrapped tightly around his own cock. Sam was more accustomed to picturing feminine curves, usually Ruby's, but that was mostly just habit. That he was naturally gravitating towards men tonight was a welcome break from routine. He let out a groan, his head pushing back and spine arching. His fantasy was muddy and half-formed and consisted almost exclusively of images involving his cock, someone else's cock, and both of their hands in a myriad of configurations. It wasn't until he was getting close to release that he was granted clarity. It was Cas. He had no idea what Cas actually looked like under all his layers, but he knew, through something akin to dream-logic, that it was Castiel. The fantasy broadened; he could all but feel wings surrounding him and hear deep, reserved groaning in his ear.

"F- fuck, Cas... Cas!" His formerly wordless panting became a lust-filled prayer. Sam felt a need for Castiel as deeply now as he ever had, even if it was truly desire rather than genuine need. He wanted him here, wanted to be under him and sliding deep into him. It didn't strike him that he had little idea what that would actually feel like. More than anything else, he wanted Castiel to hear him and know how deeply and desperately he wanted the angel. That feeling shocked him out of his fantasy. Sam's eyes shot open and he cursed under his breath. 'That's okay, you were hardly thinking about it for a second. Plus, that's not even a real prayer. There's no way he heard that,' Sam tried assuage his impending humiliation. Deep down, he was sure Cas had instinctively heard Sam calling out for him. On the surface, he ignored it. 

His hand gripped tightly again. He might have to find a new subject but his fun was far from over. Relaxing again, he told himself to just... think of anything other than Cas. Really, literally anything. 

Sam's thoughts brought him to, in essence, the opposite of Castiel. Someone depraved rather than chaste, human-turned-other rather than other-turned-human, and who would be attentive rather than oblivious to Sam's physical cues. Someone with poor enough judgment that Sam could earnestly believe the rumor that he sold his soul for a few more inches.

He'd always been more of a top regardless of his partner's equipment, but with Crowley, it seemed different. He wanted the King of Hell inside of him. If anyone could make it good, it would be him. Wishing to bottom-from-the-bottom was a new feeling and it gave Sam a rush. His pace grew quick, his hand tight and working him roughly. In his mind, Crowley had him pinned and was fucking the Hell into him. In his mind, Crowley was whispering praises and admirations as he felt Sam buck against him. In his mind, Crowley was calling him by all of his little pet names, and Sam loved each one of them.

Sam gripped the sheets with his free hand and thrust into his other. He couldn't keep his hips still to save his life when he got this close. He panted and groaned and barely spoke Crowley's name through gritted teeth. His whole body tensed, spine arching upwards and toes curling as each pulse of his climax rushed through him.

As the pleasure subsided, leaving only dopamine and serotonin in its wake, Sam laughed lightly at what had just taken place. Sam had only ever listed four people that he would absolutely never think that way about, and he'd just cut that list by half. To make matters worse, Cas probably knew exactly what Sam had been thinking only a few minutes earlier. The only comfort to be had was the incredible orgasm, and, he supposed, the fact that at least Crowley wouldn't know about it. Sam would never hear the end of it if the King of Hell knew. After cleaning himself up with a towel he'd kept handy, he let himself catch a nap.

Or he would have, if a familiar voice hadn't interrupted him on the brink of slumber.

"My, my, love. Now wasn't that a show for the ages? And so flattering."


	2. Just Brainstorming

Sam tensed and his stomach knotted. Crowley may be fun in theory, but the reality of the demon still put Sam on edge. He stopped himself from bolting up, instead sitting up with a cool composure. Inside, Sam was a mess of anxiety and humiliation, but there was no way he was going to let Crowley see it.

"Yeah, no, just come on in. I was clearly looking for company." Sam rolled his eyes. Crowley wasn't buying the nonchalant act.

"I'm fairly certain you were, Moose. You were literally calling for me. Now that I show, you're going to pretend you didn't mean it? This really is one of your worse games."

"C- Call you? What, are you Voldemort now?"

Crowley's eyes narrowed as he puzzled out what Sam was trying to get at. He took a guess, passing it off as absolute knowledge. "I suppose you could call me that. You think the King of Hell wouldn't know when a Winchester is looking to unload his soul?"

Sam swallowed dryly and was quiet for longer than he should have been. "Obviously I didn't mean it," his voice was quiet but firm.

"Obviously. Still seemed worth a visit. I had to see what peril you must have been in to think of such an offer," Crowley gave a half-smile. "I'm not sure if I'm more pleased to have found you crying my name, or disappointed that you and yours aren't in grave danger."

"I wasn't crying your name," Sam snapped at the demon, somehow briefly believing that what he was actually doing was any better.

"Moaning? Grunting? All meaningless distinctions, really. Tell me, what is it about me that set you off? Not that there aren't a plethora of reasons to picture me whilst in the midst of a little self love."

Crowley was met with a sideways glance and a whole lot of silence. Sam could feel the King's eyes on him and shifted uncomfortably. Eventually he spoke. "Yeah, well, show's over. You can leave now."

With a raised eyebrow, Crowley loosened his tie. "Or, and I'm just brainstorming here, you could quit the regretful act and go for round two with a little company."

Sam's face flushed and his heart started to pound. His first and strongest reservation was the idea of Dean catching him in bed with a demon... again. He instantly realized that if that was his biggest reason not to indulge this new-found fantasy, he needed to follow through. He knew by now that life is too short to avoid risks and to deny yourself the things you want. "Yeah... yeah, okay." Sam pulled back the covers, symbolically inviting Crowley into his bed.


	3. Pocket Dialed

Less than 20 minutes earlier, Crowley's cell phone lit up and a familiar theme song rang from it. The trumpets and recalled images of a dancing cartoon moose never failed to brighten his day. Still, his brow furrowed as he pulled the phone from his pocket. What could big baby Winchester want from him?

"Moose! Been a while, what do you want?" his tone started cheerful and quickly turned annoyed.

Silence from the other end of the line. Crowley raised an eyebrow. Deep down, a seed of concern began to sprout.

"Sam?"

Still silence, but within a moment Crowley thought he could hear something faint. He cranked the volume on his phone, struggling to listen. Soon, the sounds became louder and clearer. It was Sam's voice, no doubt about that, and it was calling out for Castiel. The demon would have become more concerned that the lad was in trouble, but he always knew lust when he heard it. These were cries of passion.

He searched his thoughts for how and why he was getting this call. Was Castiel really there? Had Sam called him in some sort of strange attempt at exhibitionism? He could hardly imagine the angel screwing anyone but Dean. That thought sent a spike of jealousy through Crowley, which he was quickly distracted from when Sam's cries cut out. He strained to hear more. He hadn't realized it until the line was quiet, but he was actually _enjoying_ Jolly Green's pleasure. Thankful he was currently alone, Crowley felt himself through his trousers. This was something that required urgent attention; he only hoped Sam would start up again and give him more fuel for his fantasy. Before he could make his way to a chair, his wish was granted. Sam began panting loudly, sucking air through his teeth and releasing frustrated, strained groans. This was very different from his earlier sounds, and much more intriguing to the demon.

"Crowley... fuck yes, fucking have it. Take my goddamned soul, just... oh fuck, don't stop." Sam's voice was clear from the other end of the line. Crowley's eyes widened and for the first time in ages he was really, truly shocked. Faster than he could actually think, Crowley pulled the phone from his ear and hit the "end call" button. His mind raced, his throat grew dry. What in Hell was that? He should just ignore it. He should just ignore it for now and taunt Sam about it later. He should go to Sam immediately and taunt him about it now. He should go to Sam immediately and watch him finish. He should go to Sam immediately and offer to join him. Bingo! He had a winner. This was too much, too good an opportunity. He wouldn't waste it alone with only his hand for company. Sam wanted him, and what could he do but oblige? In an instant, he was lounging in the overstuffed chair of Sam's motel room. The Winchester was oblivious.


	4. Moose and King

 Crowley shed his clothing and Sam refused to look at him, afraid that he would change his mind if he let the reality of the situation sink in too quickly. When Crowley crawled into bed and on top of Sam, the Winchester welcomed the demon into his arms with a soft and tentative kiss. His heart was beating rapid and harsh with fear and anxiety, but despite the near-terror of all the ways this could go wrong, Sam was sure he wanted it. Crowley responded to his partner's kiss with an equal attitude. It was confusing, and maybe even a bit frustrating, that Sam was being gentle and slow, but it was Crowley's natural inclination to match the attitude of his bed partner.

Sam tried to push away all the worst-case scenarios from his mind. He pulled Crowley against him, and the feeling of their naked flesh touching sent sparks through Sam's body. He let out a small, pleased sigh. Crowley all but grinned.

Everything about this encounter was a turn-on for Crowley. Sure, Sam was plenty attractive, but that was really the least of it for him. He had finally found his way into the bed of a Winchester (granted it wasn't the Winchester he thought it would be...), and what's more is that the Winchester invited him without any solicitation from Crowley. And now, Sam seemed to be playing coy. He was going to have so much fun making the boy scream for the real him and not just the fantasy.

It took almost no time at all for things to escalate. The demon's touch was more than Sam could handle. Crowley kneeled between Sam's legs and Sam gripped the back of his head and neck as his kisses became all hot and biting and passionate.

Crowley's want grew faster than he anticipated and he had to reign himself in. He refused to go in for the proverbial kill just yet. He was going to make Sam beg for it. He pulled his lips off of his partner's and went for his neck instead. Sam cried out as he felt teeth hit flesh and gripped Crowley tighter. The demon, encouraged by the wonderful sounds he was hearing, dug in harder and more furiously, ravaging the sensitive skin of Sam's neck with lips and teeth and tongue. His erection pressed against Sam's, and soon he could clearly feel Sam's hips rocking and bucking against him.

Sam let himself get lost in some blend of fantasy and reality, both fully present in Crowley and what he was doing to him, and also imagining that he had just made some illicit deal for his soul or that Dean would walk in at any moment, all shocked and indignant at his baby brother's choice in company. The thoughts now driving his lust were the very same that almost kept if from doing this in the first place. His whispered encouragements were quickly turning to babbled profanity, and his gasps became much more vocal. Eventually, frustrated that Crowley had not already done it himself, Sam reached down to try and readjust the way he and the demon were oriented. He grabbed hold of Crowley's almost too-large cock and moved his hips and hand to line up properly. As soon as Crowley realized what was happening, he pulled back from Sam entirely.

  
"Woah, slow down there champ. What do you think it is you're doing?"

  
Sam was suddenly self-conscious. "Wh-... What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you have no idea what you're doing. Were you straight before this or something? Ugh, please tell me you're not going to continue calling yourself straight."

His expression was somewhere between confused and uncomfortable. "No? I'm - I've never called myself-" his brow furrowed with his frustration. "I've been with guys before," well, like two guys, and never like this. But Ruby was occasionally into pegging, did that count? Sam's thoughts were cut off.

  
"Eh-huh," Crowley was unconvinced. "So you're accustomed to taking foot-longs in the arse with no lube. Good, well, have at it then."

Sam swallowed hard, "When you put it like that..."

  
"Ah, good, you're _not_ going to let your bravado nearly kill you. I appreciate that in a lover." Crowley got out of the bed, leaving Sam completely uncovered and somewhat chilled.

  
Sam watched the demon, not rash enough to angrily accuse him of leaving yet, but not altogether convinced Crowley wasn't deciding to call it off. Crowley reached into the pocket of his slacks, removed his wallet, and from there took out what looked like, from this distance, a condom. 'I guess... even... demons practice safe sex?' Sam thought. He certainly hadn't been planning on suiting up.

  
Crowley returned to the bed and leaned into Sam again, kissing him while moving to straddle his hips. After breaking the kiss, "I think we'll be doing this the other way round this time, if you don't mind."

Sam's heart started to pound again. As much as he wanted to be fucked, he knew Crowley was right and he knew this would be fantastic.

Crowley tore open the packet he'd retrieved from his wallet. To Sam's surprise, it wasn't a condom at all. The demon squeezed a bit of lube from it onto his fingers and got to work re-invigorating Sam from their disagreement and his brief absence. Sam was panting and unconsciously moving his hips again in no time.

When they were both good and ready, and the contents of the packet had been spent, Crowley positioned himself over Sam and rather quickly lowered himself. It was almost too quick for Sam, but the demon had no issue. The Winchester's head snapped back as he let out a groan. Crowley smirked and grabbed Sam's wrists, pinning them above his head.

Sam lost himself, panting and gasping and bucking upward while the demon had his way. Crowley leaned down, putting his face right in Sam's, while he rode the human's cock. "Yessss, that's good, Sam. Tell me, what part do you like more? Filling me up or being at my mercy?"

Sam's face and chest flushed. He knew the answer, but he wasn't about to say.

  
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue, Sammy?" he taunted.

  
The lust and pleasure clouded his brain, muddied his judgment, and loosened his lips. "M- Moose," the word just flooded out of him.

Crowley really, truly grinned. "Yes, Moose. My Moose," his voice was possessive.

"Oh, fuck... oh, God," Sam muttered.

Crowley stopped and hissed. "Don't you _ever_ use that word again when we're together." He was dead serious. It drove Sam crazy.

  
"Never. Never again. Sorry," he fell into submission.

  
"Good. Good Moose," his movement resumed. "Such obedience and so quickly, too. I think I might let you get off, being such a good boy and all."

The two of them melded naturally and easily, as if they'd been playing this game for ages. Sam didn't know if it was real compatibility, or if Crowley was just that much of a mind reader, but his buttons were being pushed in all the right ways.

The demon was becoming more wordlessly vocal, and his enjoyment spurred Sam on. Despite his release not 20 minutes ago, Sam was very close again. The brain is certainly the greatest sex organ, and that had never been more true for Sam than it was right then; Crowley was a master of sexual mind games.

Sam whined slightly as he struggled fruitlessly to pull himself further from the edge. It was a swiftly-losing battle and he knew it. "I - I'm close, Crowl-" he was cut off.

  
"King. It's King to you, Moose," combined with the impact of the authority Crowley spoke with, his words made Sam shudder.

  
"King..." Sam's words trailed off. He no longer had the brain space to form them.

"Look at me, Moose. I want you look at me when you come. You're getting close now, aren't you?"

  
Sam nodded while opening his eyes, and was met with Crowley's fully crimson stare looking back at him. He was at once surprised, afraid, and incredibly aroused. The demon grabbed him by the jaw, reminding him to stay present and focused. "Now, Moose. Don't make me wait," and with that, Sam was entirely lost. His body tensed and locked up as he filled Crowley, a loud cry echoing in the air when his muscles released just enough for his voice to escape.

Crowley slowed, not coming to a full stop until Sam's body completely relaxed. His eyes flicked back to normal in a blink and he carefully pulled up and off of the younger man. Sam was left panting, exhausted, but eager to return the favor. As Crowley laid beside him, Sam turned over and set his hand on the demon's chest before slowly, gently raking his nails downward.

  
The King of Hell certainly wanted his Moose to continue to touch him, but assuring that this game continued was a hell of a lot more important than immediate satisfaction. "Ah-ah, hands off."  


Sam acquiesced without question. He looked to the demon, waiting for instruction.

"I'd hate for Squirrel to catch us. It would really put a cramp on this new thing we've got going. I'll find a better time and a better place. You just be sure to come when I call." And with that, Crowley was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Act I


	5. Enter Castiel

Sam sat pouring over an old tome, his recent exploit about as far from memory as it could have been. He wasn’t working on a case - in fact, he hadn’t worked on one in a while, but he preferred to already have the knowledge stored rather than doing the research in the heat of things.

Castiel entered the main hall of the bunker but stopped in his tracks when he saw Sam. Awkwardness and uncertainty bubbled within him and, all but paralyzed, he wondered if he should announce his presence. He watched Sam intently, a small part of him wishing the Winchester would notice him so that this unbearable situation would be over. After a moment, Castiel cleared his throat in the hopes that Sam would be the first to say something, but no luck. Slowly, Cas backed up, and then re-entered the room more noisily than before. Still nothing. Jimmy’s heartbeat was ramping up and Castiel was feeling the stress. He remembered, vividly and graphically, how Sam looked and sounded during his brief prayer. His face flushed and his body reacted in a way it hadn’t since Hannah stripped in front of him. Castiel reprimanded himself for feeling that way and shooed the thoughts away. Finally, resolved to just get it over with, he sighed. “Hello, Sam. Is your brother home?”

The youngest still-living Winchester looked up with a start. This was the first time he’d seen Castiel since his unfortunate slip-of-the-mind. “Wh- Uh, uh, yeah. He’s, uh, should be in his room, probably?” Sam swallowed dryly and watched Cas’s face, searching for recognition.

“Good,” Cas nodded and then stood in silence.

Sam’s nerves ramped up the longer the angel was in front of him. Eventually he spoke up. “Uh, so, do you need to talk to him or did you just want to know where he is?” He chuckled unconvincingly.

“What?” Castiel’s mind had gone somewhere else. “Oh, ah, right. Yes,” he raised his finger and then pointed forward, giving an awkward nod as he continued through the hall and to Dean’s room.


	6. Do As You're Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley makes a demand.

No sooner than Castiel had left the room, Sam's phone started ringing. A familiar electric guitar riff followed by Ozzy Osbourne belting out the name of his caller made Sam jump. He fumbled pulling his phone from his pocket, trying to turn off the ringer before Dean or Castiel could hear. He was halfway through the first verse before getting to the talk button.

"Hello?" Sam's voice was hushed.

"Oh, are you with someone?" Crowley's voice was smooth.

"Um... No, why?"

"Because if your blasted brother and that angel aren't on your ass, you'd better address me properly," he was firm, and Sam had a hard time telling if he was serious or just trying to get him riled up.

Sam swallowed hard and his thoughts froze for a minute as memories of their past exploit came rushing in. He looked around, triple checking that he was alone. He knew Dean knew what he looked like when he was feeling guilty, and aroused, and guiltily aroused. He also knew he was a terrible liar when it came to his brother, so there would be no covering this up. He could get caught without having actually done anything.

The line was silent for too long. "Moose?"

He snapped out of it. "Uh, yeah. Yes, uh, yes sir. King," his voice faltered a bit; he could feel his face getting hot.

"Good boy, Moose," Crowley practically purred. "I've taken the liberty of doing some grocery shopping for you. Now, you're going to go tell Moe and Curly that you're going shopping. Refuse company if they offer it. Then, you're going to drive to the... what is this horrid place again? The Buckshot Inn. And you and I are going to have some fun. When we're finished you can bring home the groceries just in time and your companions will be none the wiser. We just have to hope they don't notice you sitting funny for the next few days." He paused, not even a peep from Sam. "Do you understand me, Moose?"

Sam's heart was pounding by the time Crowley had finished. Could he really go through with this again? With so much forethought and planning, he wasn't sure if he could do it. It was pure impulsivity last time. "Uh... I..."

"This isn't really a question of will you or won't you, Moose. I'm asking if you understand the instructions I have given you."

"Yeah, but-" He was cut off.

"No buts, Moose. Like I said, I wasn't asking whatever question it is you're trying to answer. You understand, and now you're going to do as you're told. You have thirty minutes before I start getting upset." Crowley hung up.

All of this was part of the game. He could feel that Sam liked to relinquish control, and could sense that in some ways he used it as a crutch to relieve himself of responsibility for his actions. If Crowley was stern and demanding and upset, what could Sam do but what he was told? If Crowley was weak, Sam would feel obligated to argue, despite not actually objecting for his own sake.

In truth, the King of Hell wasn't sure Sam would show. It would be okay if he didn't - he certainly wasn't going to go all vengeful or scorned. He wanted to play a game of domination and ownership, in no small part because it seemed Sam wanted to play a game of submission and surrender. He decided he would only wait an hour, and spent the next while pondering fun punishments should Sam be late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Sam tries to get out of the bunker without being interrogated.  
> Then: Crowley coaxes an illicit confession from Sam, and Sam gets his first taste of being fucked by another man. Turns out, pegging really didn't count.


	7. Some Truth Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tries to leave without drawing suspicion but ends up eaves dropping instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This accidentally turned in to a chapter about Castiel and Dean having a conversation that is nearly unbearable for Dean.

Sam tried to gather himself and regain his composure. He was a terrible liar when it came to Dean, but maybe his cover story would be so banal that Dean wouldn't even question it. He took deep breaths and prepared his script as he walked to his brother's room. He was nearly to the door before he remembered he would have to face Cas again too. As he paused, he could overhear the conversation taking place.

"So, these women... You just use their images for your own pleasure and give no thought to who they are as people?" Castiel was honestly asking, his voice carrying a lot of confusion and no judgement.

Dean chuckled uncomfortably, "Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, that's not really important in the middle of things. You just sorta, need the pictures to get things going, know what I mean?" Of course he didn't know what he meant. Dean sighed.

"Not really, no. So you look at these magazines so that you can have the desire to masturbate?" Cas had no problem being frank.

Dean cringed a little. Somehow it was like talking about sex with his dad, and also his kid, in the same person. "Yeah. Well, no. The desire is there - it's fun, it feels good, it released stress. Just sometimes the body needs some encouragement to catch up to the spirit," these questions were weirder than usual, but Dean wasn't quite to the point of cutting it off.

"I see. So you look at naked people to get an erection?"

The cutoff line was getting real close. "Yeah... Yeah, I guess. If I'm already hard I don't really need the girlie mags."

"I see. And what if you didn't have the magazines when you wanted to masturbate?"

Dean really needed Cas to stop using words like 'masturbate' and 'erection', it was too stiff, too clinical. Although, he supposed, it was better than how unnatural it be for him to use phrases like "jerk off" or "get hard".

"Uh, well, that never happens anymore because I'm an adult and the internet exists... but I guess as a teenager I just had to use my imagination."

Castiel was quiet for a moment. Dean hoped he was satisfied and they could be done now. He thought about asking Cas what all this was about, but quickly decided he really didn't want to know.

"So it all means nothing then? It's just an expression of momentary carnal desire and doesn't reflect how you actually feel about someone?"

This just reached a new level of weird. "Uh... Yeah, I... Yeah. I don't like, have romantic feelings for the models, if that's what you mean." He could feel his pulse quickening as he became progressively more nervous that Cas was talking about thoughts he'd had about the angel - or worse, the thoughts Cas had had about someone else.

"But would you have sex with them if they offered themselves to you?"

Yes, almost definitely, but that was because Dean would fuck nearly anyone if he were in the right mood, not because of how porn works. He considered his words carefully. "Yeah, I probably would. But it would just be... it'd be like getting off on my own, except I would have a real person to help me. It wouldn't be like real, good sex."

Castiel seemed to consider whatever was on his mind further. Dean was starting to get worried about the cause of these questions.

"What if you knew the person?"

"I don't jerk off to people I know," he lied.

"Not even Lisa?"

Ouch. "Not anymore," he lied again. 

"I see," Castiel was clearly unsatisfied. Dean was getting frustrated, and now a little upset with the mention of Lisa.

"Cas, you wanna just tell me what the hell is going on here?"

It was as if Castiel hadn't even considered that, as he gave the truth freely. "I saw, I mean metaphysically saw, not physically saw, Sam thinking about me while he masturbated."

Dean was immediately wrapped in shock, disbelief, disappointment, jealousy, and arousal. It didn't even strike him to ask how. Sam, who'd heard every word, felt sick with some blurry mix of embarrassment and shame.

"Do you think he actually wants to have sex with me, or was that just a momentary carnal desire?"

He shook his head slowly, part of him detached from the conversation to ruminate over what he just heard. "I... I dunno, Cas. I didn't even know Sammy was into guys. But... If I had to guess... he probably actually wants you, but I don't know if he would actually let himself. Sam can't do porn like I can - he needs to get attached to get turned on by somebody. You give me disembodied tits and I'm good to go but he... he's different. So, yeah, I guess it's probably a pretty exclusive club, being someone Sam Winchester jerks off to." Dean chuckled awkwardly, trying to cover up the still-raging feelings from a moment ago. 

"I see. That's very enlightening, thank you Dean."

He wanted so badly to ask Castiel if he reciprocated Sam's feelings, or if he had any of those feelings for him, or if he even had those feelings at all. He wanted to ask if he intended to approach Sam about it, or proposition him, and discourage him. Mostly, Dean wanted to be certain that the angel was his and his alone, without ever actually having been his at all. He pushed it all down and let out a slow sigh. "Yeah, no problem Cas."

 

Sam decided he couldn't face either of them, not now and not for a while. Meeting up with Crowley seemed like a fantastic choice. He slowly backed down the hallway, scribbled a note about going to the store, and left.


	8. Confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley knows Sam wants Castiel, but he's not going to give Sam rest until he admits it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that was meant to be one thing and ended up something else entirely. Enjoy!

Sam showed up within his time limit, thanks to Dean and Cas and his inability to face them. He hadn't been told what room Crowley was in, but he guessed number six and was right. His hand didn't quite make contact with the door before the demon King opened it.

"I'm surprised," and really, he was, "I thought you'd back out of our little arrangement."

"Yeah, well, lets just say I've got plenty of motivation to be here rather than there." Sam stepped into the room and Crowley closed the door behind him. They both removed their jackets, setting them neatly on the motel's table. Crowley loosened his tie while Sam just stood there, awkward and nervous.

"Now, normally I would just assume that your motivation to be here was, well, me. But it seems there's some trouble at home? Again, I mean."

Sam shook his head. He really didn't need therapy right now. Well, he did, just not from a demon. "Can we just get on with this?"

"Just get on with this?" He scoffed, "Yeah, why don't we." Crowley quickly closed the space between them. Sam was so much taller, and he was becoming quite aware that he couldn't hold authority from down here. "Shirt, shoes, off."

Sam was a bit slow, lazily pulling out of his shoes.

"Now!" Crowley barked. 

Sam startled and became much more swiftly compliant. When he was as the King wanted him, he was ordered onto the bed.

"Good," his voice became more of a sultry purr. For Sam, it brought back memories of their last encounter. His heartbeat picked up. "I'm going to do some things to you, Moose, some of which you may not like. But you're going to put up with it - you're going to do exactly as I say, because it will make me happy. Do you understand?"

"...What kinds of things?" His voice came out shaky, which was not something he had anticipated.

"Many kinds of things. Some of it will hurt. Physically and emotionally. I'm going to bind you, and fuck you, and make you beg, and that's just a start. Satisfied?" Crowley watched the Winchester carefully, taking pleasure in his nerves.

Sam had never had this kind of arrangement before, and he'd hardly ever considered it. Still, in practice, with Crowley, it was quickly becoming the hottest thing he'd ever done. He knew he needed to be cautious, though. If BDSM could get out of hand with anyone, it would be with a demon. He mustered his mental fortitude, trying to project authority with his next request. "Fine, but I need a safe word and your guarantee that you'll stop when I say so."

Crowley laughed, actually laughed because this was actually funny to him. Sam trying to sound strong, Sam trying to relate this to things he had no doubt seen on the internet, and most of all, Sam thinking that a safe word would do anything against a demon determined to hurt him.

The Winchester shrinked into himself a bit, feeling vulnerable and unsure of himself. He wondered if he'd gotten the wrong idea about how this kind of thing goes, or if he misunderstood how rough Crowley intended to be, or, perhaps, if Crowley thought that letting him have a safe word was just that preposterous.

Quickly noticing how uncomfortable Sam was becoming, the King composed himself. His voice deepened again, taking on his usual determined but seductive tone. "Moose... My darling, darling Moose. You don't need a safe word, love, this isn't that kind of game," he walked over to the side of the bed, speaking as he did so. "Honestly, I think the people who do are a bit sick, but I'm the King of Hell so who am I to judge, eh?" He slipped his hand over Sam's. "No is no, stop is stop. If you really want me to cease what I'm doing," he paused, climbing onto the bed and straddling Sam. "You just need to say so," his hands ran over Moose's chest, Moose let out a pleased sigh. "I take no pleasure in violating your refusal. It's the yeses and the pleases that I'm into, love." 

Sam was now a different kind of uncomfortable. He felt safe, and also secure that he wasn't being mocked, but this soft and caring Crowley felt strange and unnatural.

Crowley sighed internally. His playthings always got that look on their face when he showed basic human decency to them. He would just have to tease and abuse his Moose until he forgot all about this conversation. His withdrew his hands from his partner and his voice took on an edge again. "You didn't answer me before. Do you understand?"

He nodded, still feeling weird. 

"Good." The King pulled his tie off entirely now. "Wrists together, arms up." His voice contained the authority used to command all of Hell. Sam complied without thought, and Crowley used his tie to bind Sam's wrists together and then to the top bar of the cheap motel headboard. 

"But I like touching you..." It was a comment, not a complaint, his tone was clear. 

"Oh, I know, darling. And you'll get to, I promise, but for right now I've got to be a little cruel. It's the only way you're going to give me what I want." He ran his thumbs over Sam's nipples as he gazed directly into his eyes.

Sam's arousal grew beyond what the physical touch warranted, although he wasn't entirely sure why. This was all very new and strange, and although it had never been a kink of his, he couldn't deny how good it felt to be restrained and utilized. Crowley's eye contact overwhelmed him, and Sam looked away in submission. "You don't have to tie me up, I'll give you anything you want, any time." He suddenly remembered his fantasy of selling his soul; his face and chest flushed. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow. It seemed Sam's own head was doing at least half the work for him, though he hadn't the faintest what the Winchester was thinking. He guessed, hoping his predictions would be accurate enough that he would come off as highly intuitive. "Anything, Moose?" 

Sam nodded. "Anything," he looked up at Crowley again, need and arousal slowly growing in his eyes.

Crowley began to rock on Sam's lap, introducing just enough friction to get Sam from half-hard to mostly-hard. Sam's breaths became quicker and heavier, but he did not flinch or allow his hips to respond in kind.

"Mmm, you like that, Moose? Does it make you remember the last time, when you had the privilege of me riding you?"

It hadn't, but it certainly did now. Sam swallowed and very slightly shuddered. "Y- yes," his voice hitched.

Crowley smirked, finally feeling in control of the situation again. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, my King." There it was, the first involuntary buck of his hips. He stilled himself immediately.

"Very good, Moose. It seems you remember how to play, after all." Crowley leaned in, his lips meeting Sam's. The two kissed while Crowley continued to rock on top of Sam. What was simple lip-locking soon became biting and licking and sucking as well. It was enough even to get the demon going. The realization that he was growing hard is what made him remember his task. Sam had something to say, and Crowley was going to make sure it was said. He pulled back, and ceased moving on Sam's lap.

Moose whined. It was a truly out of character noise for him to make, and he felt self-conscious because of it. Still, the sentiment remained. He didn't want Crowley to stop.

"You've had your reward. Now it's time to be a good boy for me again. If you do that, we can have more fun. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded and waited with bated breath for his next orders.

"Good. Now, I want you to tell me about your deepest, darkest fantasy. I'm betting that selling your soul to me and becoming my fucktoy isn't really the bottom of the barrel for you." Crowley wore a very subtle, very cocky smile.

It... kinda was, at least as far as sheer depravity goes. It wasn't, however, the fantasy he was currently most ashamed of. Sam's breathing became pensive as he imagined himself having to confess to Dean his affair with Crowley, and then a hypothetical affair with Castiel. He would choose Crowley every time.

Crowley was patient, he could see that Sam was really thinking and not simply refusing to answer. Finally, his wait was rewarded, sort of.

"I... I guess I've always wanted a threesome..." He could already see that Crowley was unimpressed. "With, uh, with two guys..." still not scandalous enough. Sam's lie would have to go deeper if he wanted to hide his desire for Castiel. Sam cleared his throat and tried his best to act as if his coming revelation had been weighing on him for ages. He had no idea what he was going to say, but words came out anyway. "With you... and Dean." Sam didn't even quite realize what he had said for a moment. As soon as he did, he was inwardly panicking and upset - 'why the hell would I say that? How fucked up is that? And how fucked up is it that I would rather lie about wanting to fuck my brother than be honest about wanting to make love to Castiel? And since when do I think things like 'make love'?'

Crowley was way too pleased to care what was going on in Sam's head. He wanted it to be true, he really did, but he knew it wasn't. If Sam wanted to dig this grave, he was welcome to it. He grinned, half amused and half shocked disbelief. "Fuck's sake, Moose, I mean I know everyone thinks you two are shagging but I never expected that you would actually want to indulge that. Have you broken the news to Dean? You know we can make that happen, don't you?"

Sam stiffened. "Wait, people actually think that?" he knew about the fan fiction, but did people they actually know think that way? He couldn't believe it.

"Oh, yeah, everyone. Most people just try to look past it on account of you being such upstanding gentleman."

Sam half-frowned. 'Upstanding gentleman'? Crowley was clearly teasing him.

The King of Hell laughed and readjusted on top of Sam. He wiggled his hips a bit, making sure he still had attention. "Really though? Dean? I can only imagine what's so bad you had to cover with that."

"Mmnf. There's nothing." Sam sighed, "I was covering for having nothing. I'm just a boring guy, honestly."

Crowley narrowed his eyes. He knew Sam was lying, and it was starting to irritate him. "Alright, Moose, if you insist. I'll just have to motivate you to come up with some new deep, dark desire, won't I?"

Sam really wasn't sure what the demon meant.

Leaning down, Crowley lightly kissed at crook of Sam's neck. "Get thinking, Moose." He bit down hard, sending a rush of pain with a small side of pleasure through Sam's body.

He cried out, and then began a myriad of attempts - most of which were kink buzzwords like "fireplay", "bloodplay", and "double penetration". They were all lies, and most importantly, they weren't what Crowley was looking for. Each wrong answer landed Sam a progressively worse punishment, from gradually increasing bites on his neck, to finally having Crowley's teeth come down harshly on his nipple. "Fuck! Fuck! Okay!" Sam cried out for mercy.

Crowley backed off, ready to give Winchester a little room to breathe now that he was going to be honest.

At the last second, Sam chickened out. "I..." he sighed, "I can't."

Well and truly angry now, the King of Hell grit his teeth and sat up, making himself just a bit taller than Sam. "You're making me upset, Moose," his voice was calm, but did nothing to conceal his building frustration. "We both know what you need to tell me, so just do it already."

Sam shook his head. Even he didn't know if his denial at this point was from an honest desire to conceal the truth, or if it was just to keep pushing Crowley's buttons.

The King practically exhaled fire. In an instant his eyes turned crimson and he reached out, grabbing a fistful of Sam's hair. Sam gave a startled and pained grunt, fear bolting through him. The demon pulled his head back roughly. " _ **Confess!**_ " his voice deep and loud and dangerous, each syllable drawn out. It made Sam cower and painfully hard at the same time. This was not a response he had ever had before. He could do nothing but oblige, the demon King's intimidation was too much for his will to handle.

"Castiel! I- I want Castiel." Tears had gathered to, but not fallen from, Sam's eyes due to a combination of pain, humiliation, and relief.

Crowley's grip loosened, his eyes returned to normal, and he half-smiled. Sam's demeanor lightened equally.

"Ah, finally. Good Moose. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Crowley began untying Sam's wrists. "I think you deserve your reward now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt very conflicted about Crowley getting down on people who enjoy rape fantasies or enjoy saying no during sex for whatever reason. Ultimately, I kept it in there because it felt right. Crowley is very much one to judge others no matter how much worse he is or how hypocritical it makes him. It is absolutely not my intention to yuck anyone's yum, and Crowley's views are not my own.
> 
> Up next: Sam gets his reward  
> Then: Sam's gotta go home and face the music.


	9. A Hooker Named Castiel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess the end notes of the previous chapter lied. This popped into my head, I had to put it out there. Reward for Sam next.

Castiel grabbed hold of the table, steadying himself from the vision he'd just had. Luckily for everyone involved, he processed what he saw before acting. Sam was enjoying the danger he was in and was not actually in need of rescue.

"Woah, Cas, y'allright there, buddy?" Dean asked with a mouth half-full of sandwich.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, fine. I briefly believed Sam to be in danger."

Dean foolishly expected Cas to elaborate, but eventually asked. "What gave you that impression?"

"I... heard a prayer from him."

He tensed "But it wasn't a prayer. Yeah, got it," a pause, "Wait, he's not even home." Dean picked up the note Sam had left - 'Getting food, be back later'.

"That is correct. He's in a motel room."

"A- A motel room?" Dean blinked quickly with indignance. "Well what the hell is he doing in a motel room?"

Castiel didn't understand that Dean was asking a rhetorical question. "Fornicating," he put it plainly.

"F- Yes, Cas, yes, I got there on my own, thank you." 

Cas shrugged. "You asked."

They were quiet for a minute before curiosity got the better of him. "Alright, I'll bite. Who's he with?"

Of course Castiel would choose now to get tight-lipped. "I don't believe Sam would wish me to disclose that information."

"Disc- _Now_ you wanna stop disclosing stuff?" He gave a frustrated sigh. He wanted to object further, but thought it through a little more. If Sam was in a motel room with some hooker he payed to answer to the name 'Castiel', did he really want to know? He let the subject drop. "You know what, never mind."

A few more minutes and it was really getting under his skin. He didn't want to know if it was what he thought it was, but he did want to know that it _wasn't_ what he thought it was. Another sigh. "Okay, fine, just... can you tell me if it's a hooker?"

The angel looked perplexed. "A prostitute also bearing the name of Castiel? That certainly would be odd, wouldn't it?"

Dean groaned and briefly covered his face. "So it's not a hooker then?"

"No, Sam is not currently with someone who is currently a prostitute."

"Currently? What do you mean 'currently a prostitute?' Did they used to be a prostitute?" Dean was exasperated.

Castiel shrugged. "Probably."

Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to decide if it was worth trying to get more. It really, really wasn't. Now he actually let it drop.


	10. Sam's Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure, unadulterated smut.

Crowley sat flatly on Sam's lap again, and their lips met. Sam took advantage of his newly-freed hands, running them over the demon's chest and shoulders and finally coming to grip the back of his neck. With coaxing from Crowley, Sam slid down, his back now flat on the mattress. Crowley moved downward with him, caging Sam's hips and torso with his legs and arms. 

Sam moved his hands downwards and tugged at the bottom of Crowley's shirt, untucking it from his trousers. Catching on to the Winchester's brilliant idea, he sat up and pulled the button-down over his head. Sam got to work on his belt. Within moments, both men were completely undressed and back to lips-on-lips and skin-on-skin and lips-on-skin. 

Crowley murmured adoration and praise as his teeth grazed Sam's neck and when his tongue toyed with Sam's nipples. "Yes, Moose. Good Moose, so obedient. So deserving." his hand traveled lower, gripping Sam's already hard cock.

Sam tilted his head back and let out a quiet, throaty groan as the demon began to stroke him. All the hardship before had been worth it. He was quickly learning that compliance with his King's wishes brought incredible reward. 

Pulling back and sitting upright, Crowley reoriented them a bit so that he was kneeling between Sam's legs rather than around them. He reached into the pocket of his recently discarded pants and, like in their first encounter, removed a little packet of lube.

Sam's breath stilled and for a moment he thought his heart did as well. He was suddenly very nervous again. "Do you really think...?" he didn't finish his question. He didn't need to.

"Don't worry, love, I'll be gentle," and before Sam knew it, two slick fingers were pressing at his entrance. 

Crowley worked Sam until his hips were moving of their own volition. He smirked to himself - this was hands-down his favorite idiosyncrasy of Sam's. It was like a poker tell of sex. Absolutely brilliant. Crowley removed his fingers so he could use both hands in the endeavor of lubricating himself. Soon, Sam felt a much thicker bit of flesh pushing against him. The King of Hell took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It was going to take significant self control to go easy on the human. As gingerly as demonly possible, Crowley slid into Sam, going no deeper than his head.

Sam winced and swallowed a pained grunt. He gripped the sheets tightly and tried to relax. 

"Shh shh shh, just breathe, Moose. Take your time. I'm not ready 'til you are." He took Sam's hips in his hands and waited until he could feel the tension ease from his body. In a moment, he was able to sink a little deeper, and then a little more. It took several minutes, but eventually he was buried as much as he could be. Looking down, he saw Sam flushed and panting.

He leaned over Sam again, using one forearm to support himself and his other hand to grip Sam's hip. He began to move inside of Sam, pulling out only an inch or two before pushing back in. It was all Sam could comfortably bear for now. Before long, the Winchester began to really, truly enjoy it. "Jus', nnn yeah, no, no more, just, just do it like that." 

Crowley focused every ounce of self control he had on slow and shallow. He thought he was going to lose it, but finally Moose started to rock back against him. "Oh, sweet bloody mercy, _yes_ , Moose," he grinned and matched Sam's gradually-increasing pace and vigor. Crowley thought about teasing Sam further, reminding him of his desire to be owned, or his recent confession about Castiel, but ultimately he decided against it. This was so much more than enough for now. Just the King of Hell inside of a Winchester - the reality was overwhelming on it's own. Crowley removed his hand from Sam's hip and instead tightly gripped his cock. 

Sam was as loud as he had ever been, having attention expertly placed on as many of his right places as one man could accomplish. He grabbed a hold of Crowley's head and neck and wrapped his legs around the demon's hips.

Crowley teased him, slowing or even removing his hand when Sam drew too close. Although it was almost universally his goal to finish last, he knew that would be stupid in this case. The moment Sam came down from his orgasm he would tense, and Crowley's presence would become far too painful. He spent several minutes making Sam teeter on the edge before finally pushing them both over. Crowley was out of Sam as the last wave of pleasure washed over him, and he collapsed beside his Moose.

After a short rest, Crowley reminded Sam that he needed to be getting home or risk being found out. He showered quickly while Crowley loaded the pre-bought groceries into the car, and soon was on his way back to the bunker. They didn't speak much during that time, and they certainly didn't make a plan to meet up again, but they were each certain that this would not be their last encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Act II.
> 
> The threesome. It's coming.  
> But first, Crowley needs to have a conversation with Castiel. And I just re-watched the end of season six, so this dynamic is gonna be old-school fun.


	11. Setting Up the Dominoes...

After Sam had cleaned himself up and left, Crowley got in the shower and pondered his next move. He knew this affair couldn't go on forever - at some point another crisis would happen and everyone's allegiances would get shuffled up, or Dean would find out and sic his pet angel on the demon. He had to act quickly if wanted to explore every possibility of their new arrangement. After drying off and re-suiting, he considered cleaning up the room but decided against it - the angel could deal with the aftermath of his afternoon tryst with Sam. Crowley stood in the middle of the motel room. With a deep breath and head bowed, he used the only untraceable method of communication he had. "Dear Castiel, it's me, Crowley - am I doing this right? - I beseech thee to grant this humble King of Hell audience with your wingship," he paused and waited and sighed. "No? Nothing? Alright, fine. Listen, angel, we need to talk about Denim Wrapped Nightmare number two. You're going to want to be prepared for the war that's about to take place in your little love shack."

The false pretenses convinced Castiel to go to Crowley, and with a flutter of wings he was there. "What war?" he was clearly alarmed.

"Relax, it's only inevitable, not impending."

Castiel did not seem soothed. "Is this about your..." he surveyed the room and gestured at the disheveled bed. "This?"

"In part, but you're in this too."

He half-frowned. "I am not. You're pulling him into sin all on your own."

Crowley scoffed, "Sin? That's a rather medieval take on sex, even for you."

"I'm not talking about sex, Crowley," his voice was taking on an angry edge. "I'm talking about you seducing him into deceiving his brother, yet again. They have enough problems without your meddling."

"Seducing?" He was amused. "You are sadly misinformed, my feathered friend. Moose," his breath hitched a bit, and judging from the stir in his trousers, that had apparently become an erotic word. He cleared his throat. "Paul Bunyan came to me. He was crying both of our names, you know. I was just the first to respond."

Castiel was quiet for a moment, considering carefully what was just said. Finally, "Both of us?"

Crowley smirked and stepped closer to Cas. "That's right. It seems he's got a bit of a thing for left shoulder," he points to himself, "and right shoulder," he points to Castiel.

He stiffened. "What's your point?"

"My point is that I've never seen the kid as happy as he is when I'm pounding him into the mattress."

Jimmy's body reacted, Castiel became nervous. "So you called me here to brag about the sexual enjoyment you provide to Sam?"

"Ugh, no, you dunderhead. My point is - look, Sam's had a rough go of things, yeah? And in no small part because of our decisions. Wouldn't you say he deserves some relief? And wouldn't you say we owe it to him?" Crowley, of course, felt no such sense of guilt or obligation, but he knew how to sell to his target market.

"I... suppose those are all true statements."

"Now, I'm not saying you owe him sex - fucking under the pretense of obligation is no fun. What I'm saying is that you should entertain the idea of indulging Sam's fantasies because, I think, it could be quite mutually beneficial."

"Mutually beneficial how?"

"Oh come now, you must've had a romp in the hay with someone, right? While you were wingless, at least?"

"I... may have indulged, yes."

"Fun, yeah?"

Castiel took a moment to answer. "It was enjoyable," Jimmy's body responded. Despite the context of April's betrayal, she certainly opened his eyes to physical pleasures, and Meg really drove the point home. It seemed like it must be different with a man, but enough people did it that it must still be good.

"So...?"

"Are you sure it's something he actually wants? Dean said-" Cas was cut off.

"Dean said?! For fuck's sake, you can't keep anything from him, can you? I swear, you're a pair of gossiping schoolgirls. Look, I don't care what Dean said. Sam wants this. He wants you. He wants _us_. But if you go blabbing any more of this to Squirrel, he's going to bully Sam into giving up on it."

"If it were good for Sam, why would Dean try to stop it?"

Crowley scoffed again, "You can't be serious. Well, because he's prejudice against demons, for one."

"I don't think you can call it prejudice, Crowley. You've done more than enough to earn his disdain."

"Ok, fine, that's fair, but the point remains that Dean's personal grudge against me would impact his judgement about whether or not his little brother should be screwing me. And as for you, well..."

"As for me? Dean wouldn't object to that."

"Like Hell he wouldn't. He'd be far too jealous."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "I'm fairly certain that Dean doesn't view Sam in that way, despite the rumors."

Crowley groaned in frustration. "Not Moose!" his Moose. A spike of lust and jealousy moved through him as he spoke the word. He tried to brush it aside. "I'm talking about you. Dean wants to shag you. He probably wants to do a whole lot more than shag, honestly. Settle down, get married, have some kids..."

Cas rolled his eyes. "We share a profound bond, but that doesn't mean he want to 'shag' me," he used air quotes. "And having children is anatomically impossible for a variety of reasons."

"Yeah, fine, whatever. Just quit mentioning this to him."

He ruminated over their conversation for several minutes, and Crowley stayed quiet to let him think. "I... will need to consider this further." In a blink he was gone.


	12. A Proposition

Castiel got back just a few minutes before Sam. He sat at the kitchen table, waiting. When Sam came in to put the groceries away he was startled but quickly recovered.

"Woah! Uh, hey Cas. What's up?" he set the bags on the counter and began to unpack them, busying himself to distract from how horribly awkward he felt.

"We need to talk," Castiel looked up at Sam, searching for how he was feeling.

"Um, yeah, okay. Shoot," he kept working.

"Sam, stop. We need to have an actual conversation. Sit down."

Sam took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves. Acquiescing to the angel's request, he left the groceries alone and joined him at the table. The two briefly made eye contact before Sam started to stare at the table.

Cas sighed. "I can tell this is uncomfortable for you, so I'll just get to it. I saw what you were thinking the other day."

He cleared his throat. "Uh, hm, yeah. I, uh, I'm sorry about that. It was just this weird, stray thought that popped into my head. It won't happen again."

"I also saw what you were thinking today."

He felt his face grow hot. His heart was pounding now. "Right, well, see, that was, uhm... I just..."

"I gather Crowley encouraged it?"

Sam went white with near-terror. His mouth opened slightly, but nothing would come out. His head was flooded with fears being realized. Had Castiel told Dean? What would he have said? What would he do? How could he make it up to his brother? Did he think he had fallen off the wagon and was back on blood? Finally, he spoke. "Please don't tell Dean."

Castiel seemed unhappy with that response, but he nodded. "I won't. You're entitled to privacy. But we still need to talk."

His assurance calmed Sam quite a bit. "Yeah, fine. What do you need to know?"

"Do you mean it?"

"Yeah, anything, I'll try to answer."

"No, I mean... Are those thoughts reflective of genuine desire?"

Sam swallowed and discovered his throat was painfully dry. He considered lying and insisting once more that was a fleeting thought that meant nothing. He thought better of it. "I guess... yeah. Not at first - I'd never thought of you like that before. But after it occurred to me, I haven't been able to get it out of my head." He sighed, "I'm sorry, Cas. I know this has to be weird for you, I mean one because I'm a friend and two because you're like, asexual or something so you can't even relate to the feeling."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "You don't need to apologize for your feelings, Sam. I think it's pretty natural for two people who have been through as much as we have together to have those kinds of thoughts about one another. And trust me, I'm not asexual. Meg an-"

"Woah! Okay there buddy, wounds are still open on that one, let's not go there."

He didn't understand how Meg was still a painful subject but Crowley was forgiven enough to be fornicating with, but he decided he didn't need to understand to be respectful. He nodded. "Well, I'm not asexual. I just don't think about it very often."

Sam tried to puzzle out what exactly Cas meant by all of this. "So... you're saying... you've had these feelings, too?"

"Well, no. Not like that, not before the incident the other day. Emotionally, I've felt very close to you for some time, of course, but the sexual desire is very new."

Sam looked, and felt, a little disappointed, although he didn't know he had been hopeful of anything. "Okay... so what are you saying?"

"I guess... I'm saying that we should go back to your room. And probably lock the door."


	13. An Awkward Conversation

Sam closed the door behind Castiel and himself. As requested, he flipped the lock, and then turned around to face Cas.

Castiel had been psyching himself up the entire walk to Sam's room, trying to puzzle out what he was going to do once they got there. He was no closer to an answer once Sam had locked the door than he was before he left the motel room.

The two stood in silence for a moment. Sam gestured to his desk chair, and then took a seat on his bed. Cas sat at the desk and swiveled the chair to face Sam. Again, they were quiet for a while.

"Is my understanding correct that you have been... carrying on, in a sexual fashion, with Crowley?"

Sam almost laughed. Castiel's awkward approach certainly added some much-needed levity. "Yeah, I guess you could put it like that. He and I have..." Sam paused as he felt the words impending. He wasn't prepared to admit out-loud what he had been doing. Guilt wrenched inside him.

Sensing Sam's reluctance, Cas helped him out. "How long has this been going on?"

"Like a week. It's only happened twice."

Castiel nodded. "That's certainly a smaller number than I anticipated. Do you have any intention of telling Dean?"

Sam shook his head. "No, not really. I mean, not just because it's Crowley. It's... I don't think I want Dean to know that I..." he sighed, frustrated.

"Sam, he knows that you've had sexual intercourse with people. He told me as much himself."

"... He... what? How did that even come up? No, never mind. Yeah, he knows that I have sex with women. I'm just not sure I'm ready for him to know that I have sex with men too."

Castiel furrowed his brow. He certainly didn't think Dean would care one bit, and didn't seem to when he brought it up earlier today, but Cas knew that he and Dean shared a different kind of intimacy than Sam and Dean did, and that perhaps there were things he didn't know. "I suppose that's fair. Do you really think it would bother him?"

"Yeah. I mean, no. Well, sort of?" Sam chuckled. "He definitely likes it when guys come onto him, but that's probably just plain old narcissism. And anyway, Dean just doesn't have a very nuanced idea of sex. I think if I told him, he'd be all 'So what, you're gay now?' and then we'd get into this long conversation about the Kinsey scale and evolving sexual preferences and gender fluidity and somewhere in there he'd make fun of me for trying to go to college... I just don't want to deal with it."

"You seem troubled about this, Sam."

"Well... yeah. I am. I made this impulsive decision based basically on a desire to get laid and it's put my relationship with the person I love most in jeopardy. And then I did it again. And you wanna know the worst part? I'm probably going to do it at least half a dozen more times before I even start to feel bad about it."

"Do you think you're going to do it again because you don't trust yourself to say no, or because you're actively planning on seeking Crowley out for sex again?"

"Definitely the latter."

They were both quiet for a moment before Castiel spoke again. "Would it make you feel better if I offered to have sex with you?" Castiel watched him intently, apparently quite interested in his response.

Sam stared, dumbfounded. "Uh... Well that... See... What?"

"Maybe it would... take your mind off things?" Castiel tried his best porn-star smoulder. 

Sam blinked several times in quick succession. "Why are you asking me this?"

"If I understand correctly, conversation usually turns to intercourse after that type of segue."

"That... is the problem with kids learning about sex from porn... but that's really not what I mean. Why are you propositioning me?"

"Oh. Well, since your prayer last week," he was cut off

"Unfortunate slip-of-the-mind."

"Yes, that. Since that, I've given it a great deal of consideration, and then after my conversation with," he stopped himself just before saying too much. "With... myself, today, I decided that it sounds like an enjoyable way to spend an evening."

"So, you _do_ want me," Sam started to smile again.

Castiel nodded.

There was a knock on the door. "Hey, Sammy, you in there? You didn't even finish putting away the food, man. You okay?"

Shit. "Uh, uh, yeah, Dean. Just fine. I, uh, I'll be out in a sex. Uh, a sec. Just hang on."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. What a weird kid. "Uh-huh. Hangin' on."

Sam looked back to Cas pleadingly, and spoke with a hushed tone. "You, you know I do. I just..." he glanced at his door. "Not a great time."

Castiel nodded. "Another night, then." He vanished.

Sam stood up, straightened himself out, and tried to forget the idea of pounding the angel into his mattress. He unlocked and opened the door. "Hey, 'sup?"


	14. Isn't that a chick thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is just a tad ignorant. He's spent most of his life hunting, drinking, and watching porn and midnight movies on basic cable. He's not exactly enlightened. He's plenty able and willing to learn, though, and harbors no ill-will. He just doesn't quite get it yet.

"We need to talk," Dean took a swig of his beer and pushed past Sam, taking a seat at the desk.

Sam re-took his place on his bed and looked at Dean, waiting for whatever was next.

Dean sighed. "I don't really know how to say this, Sammy."

"Just say it, man. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it."

He watched Sam for a minute, something formulating in the back of his mind. Another sigh. "Are you gay?"

Sam groaned and rubbed his face. "No, I'm not gay. Why- why would you even think that?"

"Well, I just got some... I mean, I got a feeling. Or I noticed...someone mentioned... Look, you know what, it doesn't matter."

They looked at each other, both pondering what to say next. They started at the same time, but Dean bulldozed his little brother.

"So... no attraction to men whatsoever, then? Like, it's you and Leo trapped in an elevator and you're not even gonna try anything? " If anyone was lying to him, it was Sam, and he was going to make him admit it.

"That's not- wait, who's Leo?"

"DiCaprio. You know, Titanic, Gilbert Grape?"

"That's... a weird and oddly specific example... but no, I didn't say I wouldn't make a move in this hypothetical scenario."

"That is literally what you just said. Not gay means wouldn't try to blow Leo in a broken down elevator."

"This... it really feels like you've put too much thought into this scenario. But no, I," he sighed. "I'm... I don't know, bisexual? I like who I like, okay?" He was feeling defensive.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "Bisexual? Is that a thing guys can be? I thought that was a chick thing."

"Ugh, no. How do you... Like how do you even function in modern society? No. It's not a chick thing."

Dean seemed to actually consider what Sam said before speaking again. "So... when did that happen?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno, I guess it's always been there? Remember, um... God, what was his name? Arturo Humorado? Oof, yeah. He's when I first noticed."

Dean chuckled, remembering. "Yeah, he was a fine piece of man meat."

Sam laughed, "Dude, he was like seventeen."

"Yeah, but I was fifteen, and he was ripped."

"As I recall, you were pretty ripped by the time you hit that age too. One of the side effects of being a hunter I guess."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, I was... but that's not the point. Alright, so you've been playing for both teams for a while. Good to know."

Sam nodded, feeling kind of awkward again. "So, is... that a problem for you?"

"Nah. I mean, I'm kinda... I feel weird about the fact that you never told me."

"I guess it never felt relevant."

"So you've never like, had a boyfriend?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope."

"So you've never..." he trailed off, expecting Sam to fill in the rest.

"I've hooked up with guys before, Dean. It's not a scandalous thing to say."

"Okay, alright, I get it. I just... ok, cool."

"Cool?" Sam was a little indignant.

"Yeah. Cool. I mean, I couldn't care less who you bring to bed," Dean gave a half-smile.

Something seemed fishy about that statement. If his brother had a problem with him, Sam had to know. "Don't lie to me, Dean."

"I ain't lying, Sammy."

"Dean."

He sighed. "Okay, fine. I kind of care, but not like you think."

"Uh-huh," Sam waited expectantly.

"I just... Look, I know I got no right asking this, but, could you just, not sleep with my friends?"

"Oh what, I like guys so now I must want to screw all of our guy friends?" He was defensive and, at this point, almost intentionally taking Dean's words in the worst way possible. He paused. "I'm sorry, I just. I wasn't expecting to have this conversation."

"It's okay. I guess I wasn't either."

They were quiet for a minute, then Sam looked puzzled. "Wait... Dean? We don't have any friends."

"Yeah, okay, that's... that's true. What I mean is, could you try to not bone Cas?"

Sam choked on his own breath. "What?! Why would I - how would you think? That's not..." So smooth.

"Come on, Sammy. He's a good lookin' guy, even I can see that. Plus I know how you get a hard on for anyone you care about."

"Okay, gross. And no, I don't. But yeah, fine, I'll take it under advisement," he rolled his eyes.

Again, they were quiet for a minute. "Why do you even care?"

"I don't," he puffed up his chest. "I just, I mean, I think it would make things awkward, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," Sam thought about that. If screwing Cas would make things awkward, how unbearable is it going to be next time they need to deal with Crowley? There was that pang of guilt again.

"Good. Okay. Good talk," he accomplished what he came for, and was starting to get nervous about why he actually cared about Sam sleeping with Castiel. Clearing his throat, Dean stood up and left.

Sam really intended to not bone Cas. He really, really did. But then...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, I've now written over 50,000 words on AO3. Woo!!
> 
> Also, after his talk with Sammy, some of Dean's feelings are starting to make a lot more sense to him now.


	15. Sexual Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're just gonna jump right in.

Sam pushed Castiel back against his door, their lips never parting as Cas shed his coat and Sam pulled off his tie before going to work on the buttons of the white dress shirt.

Castiel grabbed the bottom of Sam's t-shirt and the two parted just long enough for him to get it over his head. He tossed it on the floor before wrapping his arms around Sam's neck and pulling their chests close together as they kissed.

This certainly wasn't his first experience, but his partners had always been so much more tentative than Sam. Just moments ago he had teleported into Sam's room, expecting to discuss their previous conversation. Instead, Sam opted for non-verbal communication, descending upon Cas with impatience and pent-up tension. Castiel acquiesced, understanding easily that talking would be superfluous at this point. His heart raced under the Winchester's needy touch.

He groaned lightly as Sam snaked his arms around Castiel's waist, holding him tight while their tongues and teeth and lips met with passion.

Sam gave a small, smug laugh at the angel's vocalization. He was determined to hear a whole lot more of that tonight. He brought his arms down and hooked them under Castiel's thighs, picking him up and dropping him onto the bed. In an instant, Sam was kneeling between his legs and kissing his neck.

"Sam, yes," Castiel whispered under his breath as lips met the sensitive skin just under his ear. He gripped the back of Sam's head with one hand, fingers tangling in his hair. He gently set his other hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam nipped, almost by reflex, upon hearing the angel call his name. His teeth elicited another small noise of approval from Cas. He grinned as he trailed down, setting to work on the curve where neck meets shoulder.

Cas dragged his hand from Sam's shoulder to his chest. With a firm touch, he tested the waters by running his thumb over Sam's nipple.

His breath caught in his throat as a bolt of electricity buzzed through his chest, making his heart skip and lungs contract. His efforts doubled and, supporting himself on only one arm, he brought the other down to grip Castiel's hip tightly.

Cas pulled Sam's lips back up to his own. His hands got to work unfastening Sam's belt and pants, and as soon as he was able, Sam wiggled and kicked his way out of them. Soon after, his underwear landed on top of them.

Sam gasped when he felt Castiel's hand wrap around him. With surprising skill, Cas oriented his thumb perpendicular to the rest of his fingers and applied a bit more pressure with it before beginning long, slow strokes.

He rocked into Castiel's grip, breaking their kiss and panting into his ear. "Oh, fff- Cas, yes. Yes!" He briefly wondered how Cas knew his way around a cock so well, but decided he really didn't want to know the answer. He bit down on the angel's neck, tongue flicking and lips sucking in between stifled groans. His precious, pristine angel was going to be well-marked before the end of the night.

Cas worked Sam over until precome was building easily. Using his off-hand, he worked off his pants as best he could. Sam pulled back and helped him the rest of the way, before resuming his position on top of him again. The two were close, and Castiel's stiff, upright erection grazed Sam's abdomen. Sam involuntarily jerked his hips at that, and quickly re-asserted control over himself.

Castiel chuckled a bit, "Sam, there's no need to restrain your inhibitions. Tonight is about just the opposite, is it not?"

"Uh, heh," he flushed a bit. "Yeah, I guess it is." He smiled. Those were the first real words they'd exchanged since yesterday. Sam looked into Castiel's steel-blue eyes and, briefly, stopped breathing. He swallowed hard, rattled by a sudden and strong wash of intimacy.

A smile tugged at the corner of Castiel's lips as he looked into Sam's hazels. Sam felt as if Cas was looking into his soul, and it was at once comforting and deeply uncomfortable. The former was slowly winning.

In an instant, their positions were reversed. Sam came down on the bed with the same still jump as when you wake up falling from a dream. Castiel was above him, and with frequent kisses, he worked his way down the Winchester's body. He never stopped watching Sam, and Sam never wanted to look away.

Cas took Sam into his mouth, first slowly working the head in, and then quickly down the few inches of shaft Castiel's mouth could accommodate.

Sam groaned loudly, throwing his head back with the rush of hot wetness. No, no, that was a mistake. He quickly looked to Cas again and was thankful that his eyes were still looking back up. Sam adjusted his pillow, and then brought both hands down to rest on Castiel's head as the angel bobbed on and licked and sucked Sam into his mouth. To make up for the few inches his mouth wasn't capable of holding, Cas gripped and stroked the base of Sam's cock, lips going down and hand came up. Before long, Sam was bucking ever-so-gently against Castiel's lips and hand.

And because Castiel understands fully that good things are best given to those who wait, he pulled off as soon as Sam began to whisper that he was getting close.

He didn't need to be asked. He sat up and onto his side slightly to reach into the drawer of his nightstand. Turning back to Cas, he started to ask, "So who's go-" he stopped when Castiel took the bottle from him. Cas was smiling. Sam swallowed hard again and relaxed back against the bed. His heart was pounding and his nerves felt electrified. He hadn't been this overcome with nervous excitement since he was fifteen and losing his virginity in the back of his dad's Impala.

Castiel applied the lubricant, again with surprising understanding, to himself and to Sam. When he was finished, he smirked, shrugged, and tossed the bottle aside. It hit the floor with a thunk and Sam laughed a bit at his insouciance. Castiel did not bother making sure he would be capable of taking him comfortably. Sam didn't want to think about why.

Sam let out a low, breathy moan as Cas pushed onto him, slowly but all at once. After giving himself a moment to adjust, Castiel began to pull back off, and slowly on again. Sam gripped his hips but allowed Castiel full autonomy, cautious to not hurt the angel. When Cas seemed quite acclimated, Sam released one of his hips and instead wrapped his hand around Castiel's cock in much the same manner Cas had done to him earlier.

Finally, Sam's wish was being granted. Castiel was slowly becoming vocal, first with quiet "Mmm... Mmmmm"s, and building into louder urges of "Yes, that's good Sam, just like that." Sam watched him intently, hanging on every syllable and losing himself in the sights and sounds before him. As Castiel felt himself getting closer, he moved more quickly and with more force on top of Sam. Soon, he grabbed Sam's hand and stilled it, encouraging Sam to re-focus on the way Cas moved on top of him.

He was panting and bucking up into the angel, hardly able to contain himself. "Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck, Cas, God," his adoration turned to a whine when Castiel stopped. Looking up, he quickly understood.

"Just... don't... say that when we're like this, please."

Sam could hardly remember that Crowley had said the same thing, albeit less politely. He couldn't think of anything but Castiel in this moment. He nodded and Cas resumed.

As if by some supernatural sense, Castiel understood Sam's desire even before he did. In a blink, their positions were switched again. Sam towered over the now-horizontal angel. It took him a moment to readjust, but Sam took the change in stride. Slowly, he grinned. Sam began to pound into Cas with enough speed and strength to make the bed rock and squeak under them. Castiel became loud and wordless, gripping and clawing at Sam's shoulders and arms with need and encouragement.

Their eyes met, and again Sam's overworked heart skipped a beat. His relentlessness let up as he lost himself in Castiel's debauched expression and needy eyes. The words just fell out of him without hesitance, "I love you, Cas." Being this close to Castiel's grace for this long was having a profound effect on Sam. As his guilt, anger, and pain began to dissolve, Sam's subconscious made sense of the relief in the only way they could.

The angel smiled and tugged on Sam's arms, pulling him down. Their lips met and Sam's chest hovered just inches above Castiel's. Sam began to pick up speed again, moving his head to rest in the crook of Castiel's neck so they could be fully chest-to-chest. Sam could feel Castiel's arms and legs wrap around him, gripping tightly.

"I love you too, Sam," and he meant it, truly, although perhaps not in a romantic way. In a moment as exquisite as this, he thought, what purpose does the distinction between types of love really serve?

Sam was shocked and emotionally overwhelmed as soon as Castiel's words registered in his head. Almost before he could process it, he felt something heavy but soft and almost tickling, and at the same time not really there at all, cocoon around him.

Cas used a hand to direct Sam by his jaw, pulling him to look into his eyes again. Sam was completely undone, completely emotionally vulnerable. For the first time in decades, it was a thing of beauty rather than the consequences of series of horrors. Sam's sentimentality did more for Castiel than his body ever could. His eyes narrowed as he felt himself precariously close to the edge. "Fuck me, Sam," he urged.

Sam snapped out of it, nodding and driving Castiel down into the mattress again. It took hardly anything more to push him over the edge, and soon Cas sunk his nails into Sam's back and cried out for him, his orgasm cascading through his body. He gripped the Winchester tightly.

It was all so much to handle. Feeling his stomach slick with Castiel's come, and then what he swore were wings holding him almost uncomfortably tight, he began a mantra of 'I love you' in the angel's ear. It all swiftly sent him toppling over the edge right after Cas. He kissed Castiel as he filled him. The pair kissed long after both of them had come down and Castiel had released Sam.

As Sam pulled out and fell beside the angel, Castiel could see he was still thoroughly wrecked. He'd never broken a sexual partner like this, but this was certainly not the first time someone wound so tight had been undone by his grace. Castiel got out of bed, and Sam felt like he was going to cry until he saw Cas reach out for him, beckoning him to stand up. He did as he was asked, and the much shorter man held him. When Sam blinked, they were in the bathroom.

Castiel showered with Sam, gently bathing him in the warm water and murmuring praises to him. Slowly, Sam was knitted back together, and emerged a new man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I think about this chapter. It went pretty heavy into the feelings zone, which I wasn't anticipating... feedback would be lovely.


	16. Eavesdropping

Dean was walking past Sam's room, but stopped when he heard his door rattle. He stood and listened.

He heard a small, masculine-voiced moan, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. _"She must be good,"_ he thought, although it slowly dawned on him that it wasn't his brothers voice.

 _"Wait, who the..."_ He then heard a soft thump and the bed creak under a sudden weight. 

He started mentally flipping through all the guys Sam could be with, but was coming up blank. The only thing that made sense was a hooker, but he knew Sammy had more sense than to bring a total stranger here. 

Then he heard it. His baby brother cried out for Castiel. Dean felt angry and sick and a little proud all at once. He grabbed for the handle but stopped himself before opening the door.

_"Go in there and stop it, Dean."_

_"No fucking way am I going in there, who knows what I'll see."_

_"I'm gonna see a whole lot more if I stand here and wait like an idiot"_

The noises from Sam's room were getting louder.

_  
"Heh, hell yeah I would. Sammy knows how to get it done."_

_"Okay, gross."_

_"Why do I even care? Sammy can fuck whoever he wants just so long as it isn't a demon in a meat suit."_

_"I don't believe that for a second. I fuckin' hate that he's in there with Cas. He should be in my room. It should be us d- nope."_

That was one step farther than Dean could process at the moment. He let go of the handle and continued on towards the kitchen, trying to shake that any of this ever happened.


	17. Hey, Break It Up!

"Sammy, we got a live one!" Dean shouted and pounded on Sam's door.

Sam stirred, groggily rubbing his face and sitting up. It was 4:30 in the morning. He had no idea what Dean was talking about, but that was his way of saying something needed hunting urgently. "Yeah, okay, coming."

By the time he was dressed and out to the main room, Dean was slinging a hunting pack over his shoulder. "Claire's in town for some reason, called about a demon. Cas flipped and took off, we need to follow."

Sam had about thirty questions but was too tired to ask any of them. He followed Dean to the Impala and tried to wake up on the short drive to one of those dive-bar-slash-hotels that you can only find in rural towns stuck in the last century. As they pulled up, light flashed from one of the rooms on a higher floor. Sam and Dean opted to draw as little attention to themselves as possible and bolted up the fire escape rather than trying the main entrance.

"I should smite you where you stand, vermin!" the boys reached the window just in time to see Castiel slam Crowley against a wall. 

His eyes went crimson. "I'd like to see you try it, kitten. I'm the King of Hell and you're nothing more than a clipped canary!" he pushed Castiel off of him with ease.

"Don't you _ever_ come near my family again!"

Crowley scoffed "I told you, I'd nothing to do with that. They were rogue agents - surely you must know something about subjects wrenching themselves from their father's will and doing horrific things," he was smug.

"You godforsaken-" Castiel pushed at him again. His hands moved to grip the demon's throat but Sam and Dean each grabbed an arm and pulled him back.

"Woah, Cas, cool it. I'm sure there's a way to deal with this that doesn't involve destroying the town. Come on." Dean got between Castiel and the object of his rage, and began pushing Castiel towards the door. "You, deal with him," he pointed to Sam and then to Crowley.

 

Sam waited until the other two were out of the room. "Okay, what the hell was that?"

He shrugged. "Couple of demons saw a pretty, barely-legal blonde and tried doing what comes naturally. They've been dealt with, Claire's fine, no harm done, really," he stepped ever-closer to Sam as he spoke.

"Yeah, well, you might want to really stress the APB on not engaging with Claire Novak. We're not gonna be so close to intervene next time," he tried to ignore the demon's advances, and his still-red eyes.

"I'll take it under advisement, but that's really more his problem than mine. Long gone are the days I feared him, Moose."

Sam's response to that word was almost Pavlovian. He felt his throat dry and heartbeat pick up just a bit.

Crowley cocked an eyebrow. "The stench of that angel's all over you, Moose."

He tried to shake the effect Crowley was having on him. "Yeah, that's really none of your business. Just..."

"None of my business?" he smirked. "Oh my, you did something naughty, didn't you?"

He had to get out before he did something monumentally stupid. "Keep a better reign on your demons. Don't make me have to have to go over this with you again." Sam knew that wasn't enough, but honestly wasn't sure what else to say. Dealing with Crowley had become more complicated and difficult than he had anticipated. He left the same way Dean and Castiel had just a minute ago. He could hear Crowley laugh as he went.

"Yeah, okay," Dean was affirming something Castiel said when Sam walked in, and then turned to look at his brother. "We're gonna head home. Claire's spending the night and then heading back up to SD in the morning."

"I'll take her. We'll see you two at the bunker," he didn't wait for confirmation, just teleported away.

Sam was relieved. At least dealing with Cas wasn't weird. Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired rather heavily (including borrowed phrasing) from The Man Who Would Be King.


	18. Mea Culpa

"Castiel, who art in... well, a Winchester, probably, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom came, thy will were done, on Earth as it was in Heaven. None of that went well, by the way," he paused. "Is that enough of a prayer? I never can tell. Look, I'm sorry about the other night. Truly. Mea culpa and all that. Why don't you come over so we can chat. I sense there's some air we need to clear."

Cas made him wait, but a few minutes later he arrived in the too-luxurious hotel room Crowley had procured.

"Ah, Angel, lovely for you to join me," he was reclining in an overstuffed chair, a glass of scotch in one hand.

"Get to the point," he was clearly still irritated.

He stood up to refill his drink. "You sure I can't offer you a refreshment before we get down to business?"

"Get to the point, Crowley," his voice was more forceful this time.

"Fine, fine, sheesh." After pouring and taking another swig of the scotch, he turned to face Castiel. "So you and Sam finally hooked up, eh?"

"That's none of your business."

Crowley laughed. "Funny, that's exactly what he said."

Cas considered that momentarily. "So you've spoken with Sam about this?"

"About what?"

"About the night he and I spent together."

Crowley smirked, "Oh, about that. Nope, not really. Wasn't even certain there was such a thing."

Castiel gave a grunt of frustration. "Fine, you got it out of me. Sam Winchester and I were intimate. So what?"

"So- So what? That's brilliant, Cas. You did exactly as I hoped you would. Now it's just time for phase three."

"Phase three?" He didn't want to get ahead of himself. "What were phases one and two?"

Another swig of scotch. "I swear we went over this. Phase one, I fuck him. Phase two, you fuck him - or, whatever it is you do behind closed doors."

He furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry, what exactly is this plan again?"

"I call it the 'Help out Moose, piss off Squirrel, and have fun doing it' plan."

Castiel was clearly skeptical about the whole thing. "Uh-huh... and, as you pointed out the last time we met like this, Dean would be upset because he hates you and wants to... what was it... 'shag' me?"

"Exactly right, DeeDee."

He didn't care to ask about his new nickname. "Okay, I'm caught up to your asinine plan. What's phase three?"

"Well, a Winchester sandwich, obviously."

He narrowed his eyes and tried to make sense of that statement for longer than it should have taken.

"A threesome, you idiot," Crowley barked with impatience. "You and I are going to fulfill every wish of his we're capable of and fuck him."

"Idiot? Me? You're the one with this ridiculous plan and this atrocious hotel room."

"Hey, you leave the hotel room out of it!"

"And what is that swill that you're drinking? It reeks from here," now Cas was digging in just to be hurtful.

Crowley's jaw dropped with shock. He slammed his glass down. "Hey! The fine people of the isle of Lagavulin do quite wonderfully for themselves and I won't sit here while you assault the fruits of their labor!" He took a few steps towards Castiel, finger pointing accusatorily.

"Assault?" Castiel scoffed. "You mean like how your men tried to assault my daughter?" He nearly closed the gap between them. 

"Your daughter?! Hah! That's a laugh. I think you mean the abandoned, neglected, street-rat, orphan daughter of the man whose body you stole," he crossed a line and he knew it long before the words had left his lips.

Castiel grabbed Crowley by the throat, their faces only inches away.

"That's it, angel. Get it out," he gripped Castiel's wrist but made no attempt to remove his hand. 

_"How dare you."_

"Yes, yes, how dare I point out how much pain and suffering you've caused," he was egging him on.

Castiel seethed but did little else.

"Come on, pet. We've been through more together than you give us credit for. I can take this side of you - I'll embrace the rage and hatred that would send those delicate Winchesters running. So let it out."

"I don't have any rage," Castiel's grip tightened.

"Yeah, no, of course not. You're dealing splendidly with your failures and the horrors you've unleashed on the world."

"I've done my penance," he was trying to be determined.

"Yeah, yeah... how much penance does one do for the murder of millions, exactly? And those angels - the ones who fell from heaven because of your naivete - do their deaths require more penance than the humans who died from your idiotic meddling?" 

_"What... are you doing?"_ his voice was strained.

"And still, after all the god-awful things you've done to his most splendid creation, dear old dad still can't be arsed to show up," he smirked, waiting for the angel to crack.

Castiel's breathing was heavy, and he struggled to decipher his feelings.

"Come now, Angel. Work out that tension before you take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it." Crowley put his hand to Castiel's chest and lightly tugged at his tie. "I promise it'll be worth your time."

He knew exactly what the demon was getting it, and somehow it made perfect sense to indulge.

"Yes, that's it, love," he could feel a shift in Castiel's grip.

"No."

He looked hurt. "No? What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no," he let go of Crowley. "Thursday night, eight o'clock. I'll make sure Sam's ready and Dean's out for the night," and with that he was gone.

The King of Hell rubbed his now-free neck and shook his head. "Right, yeah, great, I'll clear my schedule and bring the wine," he spoke to an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh. One more short chapter until the long-coming climax. Double entendres intentional.


	19. ...and Knocking Them Down.

A few days later, Castiel came to Sam while Dean was out on a supply run. He had just hit the 'brew' button on the coffee maker when he was startled.

"Sam, you're looking well."

He spun around. "Jeesh, Cas, I thought we were passed the sneaking up on people thing."

"Yes, sorry. I guess my excitement got the best of me," his voice was as flat as usual.

"Excitement?" Sam laughed and cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, you're just brimming over with it. What's up, man?" He only half payed attention to the angel's response, part of his faculties spent mentally undressing Castiel.

"I think we should spend another evening together."

"Couldn't agree more," he smiled and brought his eyes up to meet Castiel's.

"I think we should invite a third participant."

Sam nearly choked on air. "Wh- A third? A third person. Okay, uh... who?"

"Now, don't freak out," somehow Cas thought that would be reassuring.

Sam sighed. "No, Cas. I'm not... no."

He looked dejected. "But I didn't even say who."

"With a statement like that you don't need to. I'm not interested in a threesome with Dean, okay? Why does everyone think this is a thing I would be into?"

"I am aware of the rumors, and your distaste for them. I wasn't going to suggest Dean."

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Okay, sorry. Who do you propose?"

"Crowley."

Sam said nothing. The word didn't even register for a moment. "Wait, sorry, did- that's weird, I thought you just said Crowley. No, I'm pretty sure Charlie only likes girls. Plus she's basically a little sister at this point."

"I didn't say Charlie, Sam."

They stared at each other for a solid minute while Sam processed their conversation. "So... you really... Crowley?"

Cas nodded. 

"King of Hell Crowley?"

He nodded again.

He squinted, trying to decipher if anything was off. "Did he dose you or something? A few years ago I got married under the effects of a demonic love potion. Have you recently had anything to eat or drink anything you didn't prepare yourself?"

"I'm not 'dosed', Sam. And I don't eat or drink anything, ever. I'm an angel."

Sam thought a moment and then nodded very tentatively. "Okay... Um... yeah, I mean, if you're sure... it sounds... fun?"

"Good. He'll be here Thursday at eight."

"Wait, you already arranged this?" He was some mix of indignant and amused.

"Already arranged what?" Dean came in, setting several shopping bags on the table.

"Uh... uhm..." Sam looked to Cas, at a loss for a good lie.

"I got you tickets to the Royal's game on Thursday. I also got you a date."

He grinned a bit. "Well, that's... really awesome. Thanks, Cas. Who's the lucky lady?"

As Castiel and Dean discussed how Thursday was going to go for Dean, Sam poured his coffee and slipped out of the room.


	20. Holy Hell

Sam poured himself a glass of wine and, not really thinking, offered some to Cas. 

Castiel shook his head but remarked "That's an odd choice for you, isn't it?"

With a shrug, "Eh, not really. I just usually don't want to deal with the looks Dean gives me for it."

He swallowed half the glass and walked over to Castiel, who was sitting at the large table in the main room. After gently setting his wine down, he suddenly straddled the angel.

Cas smirked up at the Winchester towering over him. "Well, hello."

Sam chuckled. "Hi," he rested his arms on the back of the chair and hunched over so their lips could meet.

Castiel ran his hands over Sam's sides as they kissed, and Sam gripped his head and hair. Soon, Sam loosened and discarded Cas's tie and unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt to gain better access to the angel's bare skin. The two carried on like this for several minutes before a loud, clear knock resonated through the main hall.

Very slowly, Sam pulled off of Cas, and went to answer the door.

Crowley smiled and handed a bottle to Sam, which he took by reflex as the demon king pushed past him. "Sorry I'm late, could hardly remember where the bloody place was," he scanned the room with his eyes, taking note of Castiel's state of dress. "I see you started without me. Fair enough, I'd've done the same."

Sam closed the door and looked at the bottle, only half-listening to Crowley. The label offered no words. It was a piece of parchment depicting a fairy, done in green ink. "Is this..." he dropped the question, answering it for himself.

Crowley stripped out of his overcoat and suit jacket, setting them neatly over the back of a chair. "Open it up, Moose. For some reason, bedding an angel and a demon hunter makes me nostalgic for the old world."

Sam laughed a little and brought it to the counter.

Castiel stood and felt like he should say something, but wasn't sure what. "Hello."

He turned to look at the other man. "Evening, Cas. Doing well, I see." Crowley smirked and eyed the not-so-subtle tenting in his trousers. 

Cas, quite unaccustomed to dealing with such things, looked away and grumbled something incoherent.

"I hope you're fine with it plain, we don't really keep sugar cubes around."

Crowley laughed and walked to the counter of the kitchenette. "Not a problem. Pour one for DeeDee too, will you?"

Sam did as he was asked. "Okay, I'll bite. What's DeeDee mean?"

Castiel gathered at the counter as well, not yet certain he would be partaking.

"Do you want a hint or shall I just spoil it for you?"

"I doubt a hint would help, Crowley,"

He narrowed his eyes at Sam, considering whether or not the use of his name rather than his title counted as an infraction.

Sam noticed, and a twisted excitement stirred deep in him. He cleared his throat. "So, yeah, just spoil it."

Castiel watched the exchange and tried to puzzle out just what was left unspoken.

"Dudley Do-Right, of course."

Sam laughed, concealing that he really knew nothing about Rocky and Bullwinkle. "Oh, yeah, of course."

Crowley was unconvinced but didn't really care to pursue it. He picked up two of the glasses and handed one to Castiel. Sam picked up his own. "Seems we should toast, yeah? How about it, Moose?"

"Me?" Sam briefly looked concerned. "Uh, yeah, okay... Sláinte?"

The demon half-frowned. "Is that it? Sláinte? I'm at once appalled and disappointed." His expression returned to pseudo-cheerful. "To good times, good company, and getting to know one another. Biblically,of course," he raised his glass.

Sam nodded and raised his glass. In hushed tone, "Now do I...?"

Crowley sighed, "Yes, yes, go ahead."

"Sláinte,"

"Sláinte," Crowley responded, with a much better Scottish accent than Sam had.

Castiel seemed amused and raised his glass. "Sláinte."

And together, the three emptied their small goblets of the green liquor.

 

Several minutes later, Sam had ushered the other two into his room, Crowley's coats in his arm just in case Dean came home early. He closed and locked the door behind them and just stood, feeling awkward and unsure where to go from here.

Crowley, of course, had no such qualms. As with all difficult social situations, they simply needed an ice breaker. After pulling a pack of condoms from his pocket and setting them on Sam's bedside table, he turned to Castiel. Swiftly, he hooked a finger in one of his belt loops and pulled him in. Cas, caught off guard, stumbled into him and was swept into a kiss.

Sam stood dumbfounded, and gently tossed the jackets aside as he watched the angel and demon lock lips. Something was incredibly wrong, and incredibly enticing, about what he was witnessing.

Castiel participated fully, opening his mouth and inviting in Crowley's tongue.

"Moose," he spoke as he undid the last few buttons of Cas's shirt. "Clothes, off, now," and returned his lips to Castiel's.

Sam started to strip, going down to his underwear. His steadily growing erection was plain as day.

Once Crowley half-undressed Castiel, he pulled away from the angel. He looked at Sam and pointed to the ground right between Castiel and himself. "Knees."

Doing as he was told, Sam kneeled between the angel and demon.

Castiel watched this all unfold, not certain what was happening, but sure that Sam would disobey if he cared to.

"Pants, and I'm sure you know what I'm going to demand next," he pointed to Cas, but was directing Sam.

His face and chest flushed; he nodded. Facing Castiel, he unfastened his belt and fly, eventually freeing his cock from its confines and sucking it into his mouth.

Cas groaned and his eyes half-closed. He set a hand on Sam's head, feeling his hair as his head bobbed forward and back.

Crowley, still fully dressed and completely in control, licked his lips and watched the scene unfold before him. After a few moments, he directed further. "That's a good Moose. If only you could see from my perspective. You're making your guardian angel so pleased. I'd say you deserve a bit of a reward. Touch yourself, Moose. Go ahead."

Suddenly, it dawned on him what Crowley was doing. A night of new experiences, Castiel decided to play along. Just as Sam's hand traveled over the stiffness trapped in his boxer briefs, he got another command. "Not yet, Sam. In all labor there is profit."

Sam hesitated.

Crowley was quite glad Sam couldn't see him, as he was nearly laughing. "Is that Proverbs? Chapter fourteen, I want to say. Low blow and well played. Here's my counter offer: Do as I fucking say, Moose."

There was that word again. It sent a shudder up his spine. He rubbed himself through the thin fabric of his underwear and brought his other hand up to aid his efforts with Castiel.

Cas didn't object further, still uncertain if he wanted to be engaging in a power struggle with Crowley over Sam. He'd warred with enough evil for the sake of the Winchesters, he didn't want it in here too. When he felt himself drawing a bit closer than he wanted to be at this juncture, he very slightly tightened his grip on Sam's hair and pulled him off. With a subtle head motion, he urged Sam to turn around.

Sam shuffled on his knees a bit to face Crowley. By the time he got all the way around, the demon king had unfastened his trousers and conveniently exposed himself for Sam. He was still otherwise fully dressed.

As Sam struggled to be of service to his King, Castiel stripped the rest of the way, and then commented. "What's the matter, Crowley? Feeling self-conscious?" It was an intentional jab.

He scoffed and spoke to Castiel, unsurprisingly accustomed to holding full conversations while being fellated. "What, because I didn't pick Sunday School Ken for a vessel you think I must be self-conscious?"

Cas shrugged, "I'm not sure why else you'd still be dressed. Or have you somehow forgotten how this goes?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "With insults that flimsy, you must really be dying to get me nude," he was already pulling off his tie.

Sam protested a bit, feeling ignored. He was trying his best and felt like he was having very little impact.

Crowley pulled him off. "Don't feel bad, Moose. You're new and my tastes have matured. Now, stand up and take those off."

He did as he was told, and once they were both fully undressed, Crowley pulled him into a hot and nearly vicious kiss. He draped his arms over the demon's shoulders, loosely embracing him.

Behind Sam's back, Crowley beckoned to Castiel with a finger, imploring him to come up right behind Sam.

Seeing no reason not to follow the demon's lead, he pressed up against the Winchester, which elicited a groan. Although he could barely reach, Castiel nipped at Sam's neck and began to lavish the soft skin with lips and tongue and teeth.

Wasting no more time, Crowley wrapped his hand around Sam's cock, stroking it roughly. 

Sam stuttered and gasped meaningless syllables, quickly becoming overwhelmed by all of the contact from every angle. 

"You can fix him if he fires a little early, yeah?" Crowley cocked an eyebrow.

Castiel nodded. "I can mend bones, I'm sure I can remove a refractory period."

Crowley grinned up at Sam. "Oh Moose, we're going to have _so much fun_ tonight."

Sam bit his lower lip, unsure if he was pleased or intimidated by the prospect.

He altered his grip a bit, more skill and less blunt force. "Do you want to come for me, Moose? Just like this, with Castiel pressed up against you from behind?"

He swallowed hard and nodded, trying to keep eye contact.

"Yes? I think that's a yes but I can't know unless you say something," he had that old, smug smirk again.

"Y- yes, please," he was thrusting into Crowley's hand now, although he was hardly aware he was doing it. 

"Hmm, no, still can't hear you. I think you're forgetting the magic word."

Sam's face went hot with embarrassment and arousal. "Please, King."

"Come, Sam. Give in. I'll pick you back up; I always will." Cas spoke quietly into his ear.

Crowley was almost deeply impressed with Castiel's manipulation and with how quickly he was learning to play the left-shoulder right-shoulder game. He smiled at Cas in approval, but he quickly became distracted by something warm and slick coating his abdomen and hand.

Sam's knees went weak and he lost a bit of his balance. As promised, Castiel supported him and, after a moment, granted him strength again.

Crowley licked the fluid from his fingers as he watched the almost-touching exchange between angel and Winchester. He wanted to interrupt them with some bit of snark, but thought better of it. Instead, he waited for Sam's puppy-dog eyes to meet his naturally. He spoke with a gentle tone. "Bed, Moose. Time for the real fun to start."

Sam went to his bed, and Castiel followed immediately behind him. Before Crowley could give more direction, Sam was on his back and Cas was on top of him; the two were making out like teenagers and whispering what Crowley assumed were sweet nothings to each other.

He shrugged, more than capable of improvisation. 

On the bed, Sam whispered to Castiel. "I- I want you to..." he spoke quietly between fast, desperate kisses.

Cas nodded, "Yeah. Me too," he was equally hushed.

"But Crowley..."

"Can wait his turn," Castiel smiled at Sam, and Sam smiled back. He reached up and opened the bedside drawer, fumbling for a bottle.

"Woah, hey, hold it!" Crowley nearly scolded as he took a few steps and snatched the bottle off lube from Castiel. With his other hand, he picked up the roll of condoms and tossed them at the angel. "Firstly, suit up. I swear, you're both utter cretins." He turned the bottle to inspect the label.

Cas didn't really understand why he was supposed to be wearing a condom, but he did know he didn't know much about this area, so he followed instructions without protest.

"I assume it's just lucky this is silicone based rather than actual forethought," he looked to Sam.

Sam shrugged.

Crowley sighed. "Good, well, carry on. And for the record, nothing goes in anyone's arse without a raincoat, got it?"

Neither of the other men could be bothered to respond. Castiel took the bottle back and, after a quick slick-up, began pushing into Sam's more-than-ready hole.

Sam dug his nails into Castiel's shoulders as the angel began to move inside of him, panting and gently gasping his name when he hit just the right spot.

Castiel leaned over the other man, hooking an arm under his back and holding him close as he rocked back and forth. "Yes, Sam, yes," he panted back. "Pray for me, show me how badly you want me." He beckoned for Crowley in much the same fashion the demon had for him earlier. "I don't need your voice to hear you, Sam. Put your lips to better use."

Crowley kneeled on the bed beside Sam's head, and Sam quickly took the head of his cock into his mouth. Somehow, it was so much more exquisite this time. He let out a groan and tilted his head back as Sam worked him with lips and tongue and hand.

Internally, Sam was damn near screaming for Castiel. His head formed images and words and impressions better than his voice ever could, and Castiel heard all of it. His desperate pleas for the right angle and speed and touch and attention were answered swiftly. His attention to Crowley was frenzied, impassioned, and sloppy in all the right ways. Crowley tangled his fingers in Sam's hair and let the younger man do whatever came to him. 

Minutes later, when Castiel finally commanded Sam to touch himself, he was almost immediately coming in his hand. Cas followed him right off the edge.

Crowley pulled out of Sam's mouth as the Winchester evened out from his orgasm. Before Castiel could imbue him with renewed stamina, "Let's let him sit with that for a bit, yeah? You can fix him up when he's useful again."

Cas nodded and deposited the spent condom into a nearby trashcan. Crowley coaxed Sam into moving over a bit. When Castiel came back to the bed, Crowley pulled him into a long, slow kiss.

"Let's give our boy a show, eh?"

Castiel smiled a bit. "What'd you have in mind?"

Smiling back, he shrugged. "I figured I could bend you over and have a turn. How's that sound?"

Crowley made him sound like a toy, and part of him kind of enjoyed that. He flushed very slightly and affirmed. "That sounds good."

Just the permission he was looking for. In a rather fluid motion, Crowley moved aside, put his hand on the back of Castiel's neck, and pushed him face down into the bed. This was, of course, all without protestation from the angel.

Were his lover a mortal, he would know better than to go in without an abundance of preparation, but his lover was not a mortal, and the demon took a great deal of joy in causing slight pain to the angel. After rolling on a pre-lubricated condom, Crowley pushed into Castiel from behind.

Castiel winced and let out a small, reflexive noise of protest, but he quickly found he enjoyed taking the superficial pain as much as Crowley enjoyed giving it.

Sam watched the once-in-an-eon sight taking place beside him with awe and arousal. He sat up and focused all of his attention on drinking in the scene. Castiel was gripping the sheets, and his face was twisted into some mess of pain, pleasure, and surrender. Crowley wore a look of smug, victorious determination as he pounded into the angel harder than he probably should have been. Sam's eyes followed Crowley's hand as it slipped down Castiel's side, over his hip, around his pelvis, and finally came to grip his straining cock. He heard Castiel actually _moan_ in response. 

Despite his prowess and experience, having one of his longest standing and deepest fantasies fulfilled was somewhat overwhelming for Crowley. He pulled himself back from the edge once, but simply didn't have the willpower to do it a second time. As he re-approached orgasm, he leaned over Castiel's back to whisper to him.

"That's lovely, Angel. If only you could see yourself now, see just how far you've fallen," he paused, waiting for a reaction to see if he was on the right track.

Castiel's expression changed, now expectant and wanting to hear more.

"You've got the new devil fucking the Hell into you, and you couldn't be more pleased. This must be taking sins of the flesh to a whole new level." He adjusted his pace, determined not to get off before his partner.

Castiel was becoming more vocal, more receptive.

"And your precious baby Winchester is right there, watching your rather spectacular fall from grace. Seems he's getting off to it, too. Look at that. He's touching himself to the sight of you being fucked by the King of Hell. You love it, don't you, Moose? Your guardian angel being wrecked by your greatest nightmare."

Sam knew Crowley's words should be a turn off, but they were very strongly the opposite. The depravity of it exposed the most repressed recesses of his soul and he wanted more.

"Hmm," he purred into Castiel's ear. "What your father must think of you now," he really had a knack for unleashing vice.

"Yes... yes, Sam. Crowley," Cas gasped and panted for breath, completely consumed by the sights and sensations and the wicked little world Crowley was creating in his mind. He ached to feel guilt again, to be used, ordered, abused. He ached for penance.

"Call me King, Angel," he nearly held his breath, fully aware of what a huge gambit that was.

Castiel was too far gone into the fantasy Crowley had created to object. He wanted to say it as bad as Crowley wanted to hear it. "King," he affirmed. "Take me, King, please. Make me pay."

There was nothing he could do to stave off the inevitable after hearing that word from those lips. He continued moving through his orgasm, praying he could get Castiel to come before sensitivity forced him to stop. And for not the first time that night, his wish was granted. Soon Cas was coming into the sheets.

The angel and demon separated fairly quickly. Crowley got rid of the rubber and rejoined the other men on the bed. He took a moment to bask in what just happened, replaying Castiel's surrender several times in his head. Eventually, he spoke with a grin, "Well, I'm up for another."

Castiel planted his hand on Sam's chest firmly, and his physical arousal quickly caught up to his mental. He shivered at the odd feeling.

"I think it's my turn again, but, you know, for the other way 'round this time. On your back, Moose."

Sam acquiesced swiftly, and Crowley handed him the bottle of lube. "That's all you'll need this time."

Crowley pulled Castiel in for what probably looked like a kiss to the distracted Winchester. Instead of lips meeting, he whispered something to the angel.

When he was ready, Sam slipped his hand into Crowley's and guided him onto his lap. Like the first time they were together, he lowered himself slowly but without stopping. Once he was firmly seated, he leaned forward to kiss Sam as he began to ride him.

Castiel waited until Sam's view was obstructed before lubing up. With a light touch, he parted Sam's ankles, and positioned himself. Sam barely registered what was happening before he felt Cas slip inside of him once again.

Sam let out a loud, uninhibited moan and gripped Crowley's hips tightly. It was so much; his head was spinning.

Crowley broke their kiss and whispered, "It's all for you, Moose. All for you, all because of you," before planting a light peck on his neck and sitting upright.

Castiel brought his arms around Crowley's chest and played with his nipples while moving in and out of the bucking Winchester. 

Crowley turned his head as far sideways as he could and kissed Castiel; Sam watched in awe. Together, angel and demon put on the best show they could for their mutual lover. 

Sam didn't last long - he was never meant to at this stage. After a million whispered and shouted profanities, and dozens of claw marks to Crowley's hips and abdomen, he came once more, filling the King of Hell with what little he had left.

When Sam had fully come down, Castiel pulled out and Crowley off. Messy, sweaty, and exhausted, the three collapsed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... just wrote an 8-page (times, 12point, single space) sex scene. I don't even know what to say about that. This is longer than I originally intended the entire story to be. And I'm really pretty happy with it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! And please continue on to the epilogue. I've been waiting for that moment almost as long as I've been waiting for this one. As always, feedback is loved. If you've enjoyed this story, please check out the other works in the series. They're all based off of this one.


	21. Bollocks

As Sam drifted off to sleep, the two immortal men felt increasingly awkward. Crowley was feeling territorial, though, and so was not the first to leave.

“You left your tie in the living room, you know,” the demon pointed out.

Castiel nodded and sat up. “Do you think that would make Dean suspicious?”

Shrugging, “Maybe? I suppose only if he’s already suspecting something, though.”

“Would it really be so bad for him to know?”

Crowley scoffed. “Yes, it absolutely would.”

Castiel wasn’t sure he agreed, but didn’t want to talk more about it. 

“I’ll go get it.” He stood and re-dressed. “How long are you going to stay with Sam?”

He hadn’t really thought about it. “A while, I suppose. Problem?”

Castiel looked to Sam, making sure he was asleep. “Do you have… romantic feelings for him?”

“Absolutely not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then why are you still here?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. 

Castiel didn’t stick around for a response. Once he was put back together, he was out the door. 

Crowley was more irked by Castiel’s statement than was reasonable. If he didn't care for Sam, what was the big deal? “Feelings? Bollocks. We’d never have feelings for each other, would we, Moose? This is purely sexual.” He was speaking to a sleeping man.

Sam made a noise that likely had nothing to do with what the King was saying, and rolled over to cuddle into him.

He half-frowned. “Yeah… pure bollocks,” he was growing unsure. This felt better than it had any right to.


	22. Chapter 22

Gabriel closed the scrying sensor. "See? What'd I tell you?" he grinned.

"I can't... How do I know this wasn't just some projection?" She was bewildered.

He shrugged "If you really don't believe me, just ask one of them about it next time you see them. I'm sure the level of proud and/or red they turn will be proof enough."

She laughed and grinned back at him. "If that's what you can accomplish with a properly placed pocket dial and like, a level one divination spell... oof, I don't even want to know what kind of amazing things you could do if we upped the power level a bit."

"I could do so much, Red. But what are the stakes?"

"Hmm... alright. If you fail, I get a night alone - or, you know, as alone as it can be with you running the illusion - with Galadriel, and if you succeed, I'll share a memory of Oz."

Gabriel considered the terms carefully. "Alright, sounds fair."

"So what's the challenge?"

"Winchester Sandwich Part Deux, substitute Sam for Dean."

"Wow, okay, that's pretty ambitious. We still talkin' Cas and Crowley?"

"Yep, baby brother and the new king of Hell with Dean on a spit-roast."

She half-laughed, half-scoffed. "Guarantees are getting a little specific, don't you think?"

"Hmm... I could probably make that exact thing happen if I really needed to... but yeah, no, you're right. Lets keep it simple. The three of them, together in some configuration, lots of hot and steamy love makin'. Sound good?"

"Okay, but you have to do it without erasing any of what happened from anyone's memory, and you can't hinder Dean from finding out more about what already happened."

"What, that supposed to make it harder or something?" he scoffed playfully.

"Oh, and obviously no coercive or otherwise skeezy stuff, same as last time."

"Obviously. I just set the scene and plant scenarios for them to respond to... the momentum and direction is all on them. Very table top RPG, yeah? So, do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Charlie reached out and the pair shook hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, Gabriel's schemes rarely go as planned. And he could never have accounted for the King of Hell having actual feelings...
> 
>  
> 
> Also I ended up hating the sequel I started so I'm writing a new one. Stay tuned for "Leaving Ruin in His Wake". Triad is no longer canon.


End file.
